


Guilt

by UmJamLam



Category: Hollow Knight (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Ending, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Sibling Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:47:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23234212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UmJamLam/pseuds/UmJamLam
Summary: The Knight was a far cry from empty as the White Lady had claimed, and though they had succeeded in ridding Hallownest of the Radiance, their journey weighed heavily on them.
Relationships: Hornet & The Knight (Hollow Knight)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 137





	Guilt

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hydrangeamaiden](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hydrangeamaiden/gifts).



> This is my first Hollow Knight fic and the first thing I've written in ages. It was done as an exchange and takes place in the Dream No More ending with Knight and THK having survived. Based loosely on some roleplays.

The grave is much larger now than when they first arrived at Dirtmouth. Where once it had been a tiny collection on the outskirts of the village, now it expanded all the way to the mountainside and began to curve around till it disappeared and continued around the bend. Tiny, narrow tombstones had been erected--there wasn’t enough manpower or resources to make dedications to each corpse they had brought up from the caverns--and sadly so many bugs were without living relatives and thus their names and histories remained forever lost. 

So many bugs, utterly forgotten, and having to be burned to ashes so that room could be made for them. One hundred bugs, having to share a single grave--the cemetery had been forced to become more an abacus for the number of the lost rather than a place of rest. 

It was a dismal sight for all the survivors of Hallownest, and it was a fact that those numbers would only grow larger as they excavated further.

Ghost tried to avoid this place. When they looked upon it all they saw were the people that had been lost---the Dreamers, the four Great Knights, Clothe, Myla...and everytime they looked upon it they wondered if such a tragedy could have been avoided if they had just done something different: acted sooner, been a pure vessel, acted differently with the latter two friends. An endless reel of ‘what ifs’ ran through their mind plunging them deep into the realization that the fault of so many of these lost lives lay at their feet.

  
A vessel did not need to breathe, but even so they felt like they were drowning. Try as they might their feet were affixed to the entrance of the grave and all they could do was remember this: _it was all their fault, it was all their fault._

They aren’t sure how long they stood there, watching quietly and noiselessly till they felt a hand on their shoulder. They nearly popped out of their shell startled as they were, and in doing so startled the very person trying to get their attention.

It’s Elderbug, and seeing him with a hand against his chest fills Ghost with even more guilt and they bow their head.

“Now, now. Don't look like that--I’m not so old that a little surprise is going to hurt me like that. More importantly, it doesn’t do one’s heart good to idle here for so long. Come, come. It is getting late. Why don’t you return to your cottage?”

Ghost strangely feels like they are being fussed over and it makes them feel a tiny bit better. At the very least they are grateful that Elderbug broke whatever spell they seemed to be put under, so they gave him a polite bow before beginning the trek home. Not too long after they hear the Elderbug call out to them once again.

“Traveler?”

They look over their shoulder back at him.

“I’m glad you decided to stay here. Even if I can’t understand it myself, I know that adventuring can be an enrapturing thing for some bugs...but everyone deserves a home, and I am glad that you will be around. Don’t be a stranger.”

“...”

There was so much Ghost wished they could say, but they simply turned around fully and gave Elderbug another bow, before continuing on their way home. 

The house they and their siblings had taken up residence in was a bit of a walk, being one at the furthest reaches of Dirtmouth, where many other houses still remain unclaimed. They would have preferred one closer to other people, but both Hornet and Hollow had wanted their privacy, and they couldn’t bring themselves to let their protests be known. It was nice at least, they supposed, that this way they could pass by everyone. Cornifer and Iselda were here, kind people that they were, helping chart out the new roads and changes of Hallownest, and aiding with farming. Sly was here, a little grumpy at the more communal turn Dirtmouth had taken, but helping out all the same. Bretta was gone, and they worried at this but held onto the faith that she would find who she was looking for out there. 

Zote was somewhere.

There were many, many new faces--people that had managed to evade the Infection, the tiny collection that recovered from it, and even outsiders who had found their way here and decided to start a new life. Ghost had met a handful of them, but not all just yet and they had to wonder what their story must be that they would gladly settle down in such a decrepit place.

They’ll ask one day, but right now they were bereft of their usual enthusiasm and curiosity. 

Instead they headed home and almost continued straight to bed before they paused at Hornet’s workshop. They could hear nothing from inside--did that mean she was out? They poked their head, immediately looking towards her work bench, then scanned the room to find her nestled in a corner where she was weaving. She doesn’t look up which makes Ghost think she must have not noticed them until she calls out: “What is it, little Ghost?”

They hesitate, certain they must be bothering her when she’s working and when they don’t come over she finally looks their way.

“Is something the matter?”

They stall longer, wanting to go to her, but afraid of being a burden. They take so long that finally Hornet just sets her work aside with a sigh and beckons them.

“Come here.”

An order is much easier to follow than their own desire, but when they reach her they can’t help it and simply throw themselves into her arms.

She catches them, making a small noise of surprise and at first they can feel her body tense up, but after gathering herself, she awkwardly draws them close.

They keep their face buried in her cloak, chastising themselves even as they did so. They knew that Hornet liked her space but even with Elderbug’s kind words it was hard not to be weighed down by the sight of the graveyard.

Hornet too was someone who had suffered, they realized. How many years had she spent by herself? How many years had she watched as the world around her fell into decay and one by one all her people were lost? It must have been so lonely. It was no wonder it had taken her so long to open her heart to them.

“Now what is it?” A hand reaches under their chin to lift their head up so she can look at them. Hornet’s gaze is ever an intense one and makes Ghost feel like they are being stripped of their shell. They cannot communicate with her the way they can with Hollow or any of their other cast-aside siblings. She does not share that emptiness which connects them all, but all the same she had become progressively better and better at picking up on their emotions

“Is it Myla?” 

The mention of the miner’s name gives them a sinking feeling in the pit of their stomach and they give a weak shake of their head.

“...are you certain?” Again they pause, uncertain. Myla was certainly a part of it but…

“She is but there’s more?” To that they give a hesitant nod and then just shove their face in her shoulder again.

Hornet tenses a little, but then hugs them, gently rubbing their back. To be held but her, their dear sister who had for so long been reticent with affection, had even pushed them back at times alleviates them somewhat.

“Is it everything?” Her voice is quiet now.

They nod.

She’s the one to pull them in tighter now, enfolding them in her cloak.

“Yes. Me too.”

At hearing that they immediately sit up, shaking their head and flailing their arms. With how they have been thinking, their mind immediately leaps to the conclusion that Hornet too must be blaming herself, so they quickly take one of her hands and spell out: _Not your fault._

Hornet looks at their hands and she curls her finger around theirs and cups their hand between hers.

“I know. It’s not _your_ fault either.”

It’s the first time someone has ever said that to them. It’s the first time someone has even come to know of these thoughts that plague them. When they freeze in her grip, Hornet squeezes their hand.

“Is that what you’ve been thinking this whole time?” Her tone is astonished, disbelieving and she gives a shake of her head.

“Ghost. It’s not your fault,” she says again firmly, “all this? It was simple tragedy. Hollow Knight. Myself. You….the only ones to blame are those who thought to drag innocents into their petty egotistical feud.”

“I know it is difficult not to think of all that you could have done, but hindsight tells us what we could never have known at the time, and you were thrust with a responsibility by circumstance. If not for you there would be no one left. Not Hollow Knight. Not myself. Not any of these survivors that we have found and begun to rebuild with. You _saved_ us.”

Something within them breaks at those words, that they know to be sincere. Hornet was not one for false niceties. All the doubt, all the guilt, all the shame they had been holding onto for so long comes spilling out, and Hornet holds them close as they cry.

Relieved.

The burden finally, _finally_ lifted from their shoulders.


End file.
